


We’re Not Lovers (We’re Just Strangers)

by EternallyEC



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Butterfly Effect, Did I mention angst, F/F, Gen, Her Name is Root, How one little change can affect everything, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:27:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21813679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternallyEC/pseuds/EternallyEC
Summary: The first time that Root's path crossed with Sameen Shaw's, she was someone else entirely and both would be irrevocably changed by that night. When they meet again years later, how will things change and, perhaps more importantly, how will they stay the same?- or -Canon-divergent AU where one small change has the possibility to change everything.
Relationships: Root/Sameen Shaw
Comments: 17
Kudos: 76





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, everyone! I wanted to make a quick note here that this is the first full-fledged multi-chaptered series I've written in years, and so much of it is thanks to you all being so kind and supportive with your kudos and comments. Thank you so much! 
> 
> I hope to post one chapter a week, though I can't promise a day because of work and an ever-changing schedule that means that I write when I can. I do promise that I will finish this story though. The outline is completely done and I'm very much in love with this universe and I feel very passionate about it!
> 
> Also, a quick note: this chapter does use Root's dead name exclusively and I wanted to be upfront about it in case anyone is bothered by that. It will be the only chapter that refers to her as such, though.

_“The things that really change the world, according to Chaos theory, are the tiny things. A butterfly flaps its wings in the Amazonian jungle, and subsequently a storm ravages half of Europe.”_

_― Neil Gaiman_

Samantha Groves was just nine years old when the shape of her world changed forever in a screeching crash that began her eventual descent into darkness.

The night had been a good one, all things considered. Sam, as she preferred to be called, had been invited to participate in an event thrown by her school’s Gifted and Talented program to celebrate her good grades and hard work. Even better, the school had decided to treat them all to dinner which meant that they got to travel away from Bishop to find a restaurant that could accommodate them.

The night felt like a dream as Sam devoured a better meal than she’d had in weeks, pulled into conversation with the other kids in the program and then presented with an award for having the highest grades in the school. She was ecstastic for the chance to get out of Bishop for an evening, the small town already feeling like it was suffocating her, and she actually felt safe enough to let her guard down for once.

Unfortunately, letting her guard down when her mother was around was never a good idea and she soon realized that she had slipped out of the restaurant at some point during the evening.

But as was often the case with such events, people began to leave soon almost immediately after it was over and Sam knew that her teachers would begin asking questions soon. After just a moment of thinking, she approached her teacher and made up an excuse of her mother not feeling well and that she’d gone ahead to the car so as not to disrupt Sam’s program.

Sam was never quite sure if the teachers really believed the lies she told about her mother or if they just pretended to because it made everyone’s lives easier, but she found herself grateful for it as she made an easy escape. Sometimes she felt bad for duping the only adults in her life who seemed almost genuinely proud of her, but the lies were a far better alternative to the white-hot shame she felt anytime she considered telling someone the truth.

Because the truth was, Sam knew where her mother was with an exhausting certainty and it didn’t take her long to track down the closest bar once she’d made her escape. She pushed her way through the door with a sense of exhaustion borne from euphoria quickly turning to despair and she ignored the looks she was getting as she made her way through the crowded bar and found her mother in a dark table near the back. Her head was down on the table and Sam pretended not to notice the man beside her fumbling with his pants as she approached.

Giving her mom’s shoulder a hard shake, Sam’s eyes were hard and cold as they met hers when her mother finally managed to open them long enough Her mom’s eyes were bleary and Sam could see that she’d managed to put away a lot in the short time she’d been missing, but there wasn’t much that she could do. “Come on, Mom, we have to go home,” she sighed, helping her mother up and not sparing a glance for anyone as she led her back to the car and climbed into the backseat, determined to avoid her mother.

In the years to come, the woman who’d once been Samantha Groves would regret what happened next for the rest of her life. At the time, she’d just wanted to be relieved of the embarrassment that came every time her mother was caught being drunk and the looks of pity she’d get in school for days afterward. She just wanted to go home and crawl into her bed and be free to dream about the lovely night she’d had before her mom had ruined it. She just wanted to get out of the town that suddenly felt every bit as stifling as Bishop.

Samantha Groves at the tender age of nine years old could never known that her innocent desires would lead to death and disaster. She never could have guessed that her simple desire to go home would change the course of her life so drastically that she’d become an entirely different person over the next five years.

And she certainly could never have known that person would always look back on this night as being the night of her first murder.

~

Sameen Shaw was tired but she forced herself to stay awake as her father animatedly described things to her as they passed.

They’d been driving for what felt like hours, her father talking to her more often than not, and Sameen tried to appreciate what she knew he was doing. After spending her entire life moving from place to place, she knew that he’d come to feel an emotion she didn’t understand and that he’d brought her along on this trip in an effort to give her more of a choice in the matter.

She didn’t mind the moving, though; at least, not in the way she thought the other kids on bases she’d known did. It wasn’t as though she ever had friends to leave behind. Even when she was young enough to attend a daycare twice a week, she’d never had friends to speak of. The other kids always had as little time for her as she had for them and Sameen liked it that way. The only people she cared about spending time with was her father and Mâmân, and where they spent that time didn’t matter much to the little girl.

Still, her mother had taken her aside the evening before they’d left for the trip and gently told her how special the trip was to her father and so Sameen had been careful to maintain interest, not that it was that hard to do when her father was around.

As a precocious six-year-old, Sameen knew that she was lucky to have parents who loved her as much as they did and if they had noticed the way that she simply didn’t react to things the way others did, didn’t seem to _feel_ things like them, they had never said a word about it. It was an easy acceptance that she’d only realized she was lucky to have when she’d started school and realized that the other kids could sense that she was different and marked her as such immediately.

It was just one more reason that Sameen really couldn’t find a reason to care about where they moved to next. She had quickly come to realize that kids everywhere were the same and it wasn’t as though she could leave whatever was different about her behind like an unwanted toy. As long as it was with her, she knew that she’d never fit in with the other kids and it wasn’t like she cared, anyway.

Yawning, Sameen turned to face the window as her father grew quiet, fully intending on seizing the opportunity to sleep. It had started to rain and she could see through sleepiness-blurred eyes that the roads were slick. Years later, Sameen would realize that her father quieted out of worry about the storm and the roads that were growing increasingly dangerous.

But at that moment, all that she knew was that it was quiet and peaceful and she was content to stare out the window as they approached an intersection.

She was almost surprised to see another car there, the first they’d seen in miles. Lifting her head curiously, she studied the girl she could see peering back at her from the backseat. She appeared to be older than Sameen from what she could tell, and though the darkness and the rain made it impossible to know for sure, she thought her hair was a rather drab shade of blonde or possibly brown.Leaning back in her seat as the light turned green, she took a quiet breath, the last before her world would change forever.

~

Halfway home, Sam had grown tired of the stench of alcohol and finally decided she’d rather deal with getting wet from the rain than have to smell it for another moment. She rolled down her window and stuck her head out as they approached the intersection and for just a moment, she locked eyes with a younger girl in the car across from them.

She was almost disappointed when the girl broke eye contact and she reluctantly drew herself back into the car with a sigh. At least they were almost home, she thought, and it was in that moment that everything seemed to happen in both the blink of an eye and in slow motion.

The light for the other car turned green and they began to drive and for some reason Sam would _never_ understand, her mother suddenly hit the gas and began to go at the same time. Sam barely had time to process that they were moving before they’d hit the SUV with a sickening crunch, the impact enough to force the SUV to roll over and for Sam to be slammed back into her seat like a rag doll.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” her mother was mumbling as she sat frozen, staring at the sight. “We have to get out of here,” she said in a panicked slur, somehow managing to get the engine to turn over and speeding away.

Sam couldn’t find words to speak as she turned around to glance at the wreckage behind them, seeing that girl in her mind’s eye again as the early signs of shock began to settle in. She knew that what they were doing was wrong even through the thickening fog in her mind, and she resolved to call and make an anonymous report as soon as they got home, her quick eyes darting up to memorize the mile markers.

After all, there was no one around for miles and if either of the people in that car could be saved, Sam knew that she was the only one who would get them help.

~

Sameen wasn’t sure what she was feeling as she lay on the cold, wet asphalt underneath their car. She wasn’t sure what had happened to her, but her head hurt and she had been growing increasingly hungry ever since she’d woken up. Her leg was stuck under something and after she’d given up on calling for her father, calls that had all gone unanswered, she had resorted to staring blankly out of the shattered window.

The longer that she lay there, the more the asphalt seemed to bite into her skin, infecting her with its’ wet and cold and soon she was shivering. She idly thought that she hoped someone would get there soon so that she could have something to eat.

Almost as if on cue, she heard sirens and watched a fire truck and an ambulance pull up. She cataloged the different voices methodically as she waited for someone to find her, which didn’t take long at all as it turned out.

The firefighter was nice and she liked him as much as she was able to like anyone, but she saw the strange way he looked at her when she asked if she could have a sandwich after he told her that her father was dead. It was the same way the children at Sameen’s school looked at her and she felt a strange tightening in her chest as she wondered for the first time if perhaps they were right to avoid her.

Maybe there was something wrong with her.

But soon, her train of thought was derailed when he returned with a sandwich and started asking her questions that she answered the best she could. But the only thing that she had noticed about the other car was the young girl and though she obediently described her, she knew that it wasn’t enough and wouldn’t lead to anything.

Once the questions were finished, Sameen asked for and received another sandwich and she was just swallowing the last bite when the firefighter returned to tell her that she was going to go on an airplane by herself to go home to Mâmân.

Tuning the firefighter out, Sameen continued to stare blankly at the wreckage as she thought about what had happened, idly wondering about the girl in the other car. Although she never would be able to explain why, somehow, somewhere deep inside of herself, she just couldn’t shake the feeling that they would meet again someday.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again! I've had the last two days off and managed to get two chapters written, so this may be posted a little faster than I'd initially planned if I can keep it up! I want to try to always stay a chapter ahead! 
> 
> This chapter includes implied child abuse that's mentioned but not shown.

Root felt as powerful as a god as she sentenced a man to death with a few simple keystrokes. As the screen displayed a confirmation message of the bank transfer that would ultimately lead to justice, she wondered what she’d expected to feel. Guilt, perhaps, but that was nowhere to be found. Trent Russel deserved what he’d soon be getting, perhaps even more so than what he would have gotten if the police had done their job and found him in the three years since Hanna’s disappearance.

She swallowed, allowing herself a rare moment to feel the grief tightening in her chest before she clamped down on the emotion and took a drink of the water by her computer.

No, there was no grief for the monster who had murdered her only friend to be found, but there _was_ a strange sense of satisfaction that she had managed to pull off the perfect crime. Coupled with the heady power she felt, Root felt invincible, like she could do anything she put her mind to. She hesitated as a thought came into her head, her fingers stilling on the keys as she wondered about the merits of the idea and if she really wanted to know the answers she was thinking about seeking out.

But then she remembered the young girl who was constantly there in the back of her mind, haunting her no matter how hard Root tried to think of anything or anyone else. She was Root’s own personal secret, someone that no one in her life knew about and she haunted Root almost like a ghost of her own making. Sometimes, Root even dreamed about her and suddenly, the thought of never finding out if she had survived the crash made her feel like she couldn’t breathe.

Her fingers were moving over the keyboard before she could think about it and she swallowed as she easily overrode the local police department’s weak security measures and granted herself access to their records. The date of the accident was burned into her brain and, lucky for her, it had been one of no more than five incidents that the Bishop police had to respond to that day.

In no time at all, she had found the police report but once again, she hesitated as she hovered over the button that would reveal the truth. But then thoughts of Trent Russel and all that she now knew she was capable of came back to her and she reminded herself that she _wasn’t_ that weak little girl anymore.

She was Root, and she could handle anything now.

Strengthening her resolve, she clicked and waited as the report loaded. It was less than five pages long and yet its’ contents would change Root’s life for a second time. Apparently, the girl she had seen that night was Sameen Shaw, a six-year-old girl whose father had been in the Marines. According to the girl’s mother, they had been on a road trip to Corpus Christi to talk about a possible transfer there and Sameen had confirmed it during a brief interview.

Her heart rate picked up at that, realizing for the first time that Sameen had survived and feeling a rush of relief mingled with sadness that she’d had to lose her father so young because of a decision that she and her mother had made. Swallowing, she continued to read and she couldn’t help but grin when she read that Sameen had spoken about her. Apparently, she hadn’t been paying attention enough to offer a description of the car but she did offer what little she remembered about Root— _no, Samantha Groves,_ she corrected herself, not wanting to taint the new identity she’d so carefully built with the painful memory.

The police’s investigation appeared to end there—there was a cursory note that Sameen had been sent back home on a flight, her mother apparently being too bereft to travel. That was followed by a witness statement from Joseph Kent, a firefighter who had been the first on the scene and the man who had rescued Sameen from the wreckage.

_She… I’ve never seen anything like it,_ the statement read. _I told her the news about her dad and… I don’t know. She said, “You mean he’s dead,” like I’d just told her it was going to rain or something. There’s something weird about that kid._

Root frowned as she saved the file to her hard drive before shutting down her laptop for the evening. The idea of Sameen being described as ‘weird’ bothered her for some reason, perhaps because of her own experience growing up as the strange “Groves kid” nobody knew what to do with. Hanna had been the only one who had ever seen through the mask she wore every time she stepped out of her bedroom, and though she’d been older than her, she had been unapologetic about hanging out with her and defending her any time she caught someone giving her a hard time.

She felt a pang in her chest as she wondered if Sameen had anyone in her life willing to do the same for her. She hoped that, at the very least, her mother was the type of person who would do so and with that thought, she couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to grow up with a mother who actually cared.

_As soon as they’d arrived home, Sam Groves had slipped out of the SUV and rushed into the house. Luckily for her, her mother was too drunk to be steady on her feet and though she knew by the sound of rage in her voice as she yelled her name that she would pay for her defiance later, it didn’t stop Sam from racing upstairs and grabbing the phone. Dialing with shaking hands, she listened to the sound of her mother’s heavy footsteps that hadn’t met the hardwood floor inside the house yet as the call connected._

“ _911, what’s your emergency?”_

“ _There’s been an accident,” Sam said quickly. “It was just outside of Bishop. A car ran a red light and there may be people hurt.” She closed her eyes, pulling up the memory of the mile markers and quickly rattling them off. “Please hurry,” she added frantically before hanging up the phone and whirling around to see her mother standing behind her._

_She eyed the door to her room but she knew that she’d never make it. Raising her chin defiantly, she glared at her mother and refused to close her eyes as she approached._

Root shuddered at the flashback, remembering all too well what had happened next. Her arm still bore a scar from that night, a scar that Root had always felt oddly grateful for as it meant that she would never forget what she’d done, what she had unwittingly enabled her mother to do.

It meant that she would never forget Sameen and perhaps that was a punishment that fit the crime.

Pursing her lips, Root checked to make sure that her door was locked and got comfortable on her bed. Opening her bedside table, she withdrew the bottle of nail polish and already felt a little comforted by the sight of it. Giving it a little shake, she opened it and eyed her nails critically.

As she painstakingly painted her fingernails with a perfect coat of black, she remembered how Hanna had once done this for her. “Black matches your personality,” she’d teased with a giggle. “You should embrace that about yourself.” Something about it had made Root feel better about herself and the darkness she could feel brewing inside her heart. When she’d met Hanna, she’d wished that she could be more like her but with that one simple sentence and gesture, Hanna had shown her that she liked her exactly as she was.

And that, for Root, was a mark of approval that she’d sorely needed in her life. Now, she wore the black not only for herself, but for the girl who had encouraged her to embrace herself exactly the way she was. She couldn’t help but wonder what Hanna would think of her now. She’d been more Sam’s friend than Root’s, although now she wondered if she’d seen through her all along and, if so, if she’d liked the person she’d seen there.

Root had so many questions that would never be answered now and it was just one more reason that she had chosen to exact justice on Trent Russel on Hanna’s behalf. She’d deserved better. Between herself and Hanna, Root suffered no grand delusions about who the world would have been better off without and it certainly wasn’t her kind, selfless friend.

Suddenly, her laptop pinged and Root frowned with interest, certain that she had powered it off completely. Eagerly approaching, she opened it and was surprised and delighted to find a strange chat window open.

Hesitating over the window, she couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous in the way of someone who can sense when their next decision will be life-changing. But her adrenaline was racing and she remembered Hanna telling her to embrace the darkness as a feral grin slowly spread over her face and she clicked to open the window.

“Username:” blinked at her from the text box and her grin only grew more malicious as she took the final step and typed in, “Root.”

An encrypted message filled the screen and Root felt her anticipation grow, tempered with excitement and the thrill that came with finding a challenge. Although the message was still unknown, Root had learned early on that no one sent encoded messages on a secure instant messaging server for anything that wasn’t illegal and probably a lot of trouble if she got caught. Of course, that fact only made it all the more exciting for her.

As she sat down in front of the laptop again, she couldn’t help but admire her black fingernails against the keys that felt so much like home to her.

“Embrace the darkness”, Hanna had told her, the words now taking on an almost prophetic meaning.

Perhaps it was time that she truly did, she thought as she got to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to point out that I realize that Shaw isn't her real surname on the show, but I promise I have a reason for making it that way in this story. 
> 
> Next chapter picks up quite a bit because we're into canon POI and after that, the fun will really begin! I hope you'll stick around and that you're enjoying the ride. 
> 
> Any and all feedback is very much appreciated!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this chapter is pretty transitional and mostly canon, but it's very necessary to get to the main event that starts in chapter 4! I'm honestly not completely satisfied with it, but I don't think I ever will be since not much happens in it. I promise things are going to pick up next chapter and we'll be on our way! Thanks for sticking with this story!

Root had always been good at anything she set out to do, and that included finding answers when necessary. And when her ordinary, run-of-the-mill political assassination had nearly been foiled by an unknown, she’d deemed finding out their identity a definite necessity.

But she’d certainly found far more than she was expecting when she’d infiltrated Harold’s system and although her intrusion had been predictably cut short before she could gain access to everything, what she did find was beyond her wildest expectations.

For the first time since she’d left Bishop and perhaps even before that, she could see a purpose for her existence in the beautiful fragments of code that she’d managed to seize from Harold’s system before he’d locked her out. She suspected what it was almost immediately and after days of analyzing the code carefully, she knew for absolutely certain that the mysterious Harold had done what everyone still thought was years off.

Suddenly, Root felt better about having almost been bested at her game by the man who had built God.

The sense of purpose she’d suddenly felt grew stronger than ever at the realization and she was single-minded in her determination to find the Machine and to set Her free, whatever it took. She sent out word that she wasn’t taking any new jobs for a while; her bank account was certainly well-padded enough for her to live off of for a long time and it wasn’t like she couldn’t siphon funds from any bank account of her choosing if she needed to eventually.

She’d done nothing but work since she’d left Bishop years before and now, she had something much more important in mind.

Finding a well-hidden government secret proved to be every bit the challenge Root had expected and she was happy for it. It was a task that was well-suited to her particular skill set and though she might have rather enjoyed finding Harold’s Machine quickly, she enjoyed having to prove herself worthy of Her.

Several months and identities later, she had grown closer than she’d ever been before. Closer perusal of the code at her disposal along with her discovery of the Northern Lights project had provided valuable intel for her about how the Machine determined threats. What she couldn’t figure out was _how_ the Machine communicated, but she knew she’d have time to learn once she had _found_ Her.

At any rate, the discovery had finally provided her an in to meet Harold and his little helper monkey and she’d jumped at the chance. She’d taken more care with her new identity than usual, knowing better than to underestimate her mark with this particular con. Setting up the hit on herself had been easy enough; although her experience was usually on the other side of the fence, she knew how it all worked well enough to make it look perfect. After all, it was legit and if her trust fall failed to work, she’d be dead, something she found a certain thrill in knowing.

And then, all that she had to do was sit back and wait for the Machine to spit out Caroline Turing’s number and within 48 hours, she had a new client. He was good, she had to admit, if a little rough around the edges, but Root would have known him anywhere.

Once HR made their first move, everything went quickly and according to plan. John kept her safe just as she’d predicted and before too long she found herself set loose with clear directions to Harold.

Sometimes, it really was too easy.

Alicia Corwin had been nothing but a casualty; a woman unfortunate enough to be threatening Harold at the precise moment Root arrived. She killed her without a second thought, sliding into the car with a gun pointed at the mysterious man and a sly smile on her face, her blood thrumming in her veins.

From there, things moved even more quickly and though Harold didn’t tell her much, she learned quite a bit after pretending to lose consciousness after Denton started to beat her. Face down on the floor, she couldn’t see a reason to hide her smirk or the roll of her eyes until he rolled her over with his foot.

Men were always so predictable, she thought. If Root had been in Denton’s position, she would have fired a bullet into her brain as soon as she went limp.

But then, she was hardly surprised that he hadn’t, choosing instead to talk to Harold over her supposedly unconscious body and feeding her more information than she’d really expected to gain from this ploy. Men always underestimated her because of her sex, never dreaming that she knew well how to take a beating and make it just believable enough. It was insulting, frankly, the idea that he really thought he’d bested her.

But the look of pure shock on both men’s faces when she’d seized the element of surprise and tased Denton had been all the more satisfactory for it and she took pride in the fact that she’d defied their expectations. Unfortunately, it had done nothing to weaken Harold’s resolve and she grew increasingly frustrated when he refused her request to work together more vehemently than ever.

She didn’t mind so much, not then. Although she knew from the alerts she had set up that John was a little too close for comfort, she’d thought she still had time. Killing Denton had been easy for her, easier than most with the things she knew he’d done, and she’d expected to be gone with Harold long before he could figure out where they would have gone.

Unfortunately for her, Harold had outsmarted her once again (or so she assumed; she never did quite manage to work out how he’d managed to clue in his little helper monkey) and she’d been forced to cut her losses and run when Harold managed to thwart her last-ditch effort to force him into compliance.

Still, despite the annoyance of losing her closest connection to the Machine, Root had called John later to thank him. She supposed that perhaps Harold was right about him, not that she’d ever admit it. No one in Bishop, not even those who’d known and loved Hanna, had been willing to do what John and his little police friend had done for her and while Root may have brought her justice, she knew that they’d finally brought her home.

It was completely expected when her gratitude was met with a threat and it made her feel slightly more centered after the whole experience. She wasn’t used to her plans going awry and it had thrown her off-balance for a while, but if there was one thing that Root had never been, it was a quitter and she found herself more determined than ever to complete her mission.

Her next move had been rather impressive, if she did say so herself—and she did, false modesty never having been a particular flaw of hers. She managed to maneuver herself via Theresa May into the office of Special Counsel as his assistant and quickly gained his trust. Bugging his office was laughably easy and the information she gained access to due to the new position was incredible.

And then, her world shifted on her axis once more when she was listening in one of Special Counsel’s phone calls and heard a name that she would recognize anywhere: Sameen Shaw.

Staying late that evening under the guise of reorganizing the filing system, Root had combed through the files until she’d found Shaw’s listed under Indigo Five Alpha. The woman staring back at her from the photo was beautiful and her dark eyes were far too familiar for Root to even try and pretend that it was a coincidence. She’d seen eyes that dark only once before, decades earlier, and for the first time since she’d learned of the Machine’s existence, she hesitated.

Veronica Sinclair would be a perfect in and as a now-former ISA operative, Shaw might be privy to sensitive information that could potentially help Root with her mission. She’d be a fool not to take the opportunity on that alone.

But on the other hand, there was certainly a risk involved. Although she didn’t think Shaw could possibly recognize her after so many years and without the benefit of knowing her former name, she couldn’t discount the possibility entirely. She’d spent so many years cultivating her identity and if anyone should discover that she’d once been Samantha Groves…

It was a risk that she couldn’t afford to take, but even that wasn’t the main reason for her hesitation.

Root’s conscience was gnawing at her as she considered the potential ramifications of her actions if she chose to do this. Shaw was already in grave danger as it was, but if she gave up any information there would be no way they would ever let her live. And as she read over Shaw’s file, finding herself liking the woman more and more with each notation, she started to wonder if she should _really_ bring herself face-to-face with her after what she’d already done.

The mention of a personality disorder, in particular, intrigued her. It appeared that it was self-diagnosed and voluntarily listed by Shaw herself, according to the notes. Root smiled softly, seeing the beauty in the way that Shaw’s mind functioned almost solely on logic. It reminded her of an upgraded system, the idea of a human whose feelings didn’t function the way everyone else’s did. It certainly explained the note she’d read in the police report on the accident and brought her a certain sense of relief to realize that she’d probably greatly exaggerated the extent of Shaw’s grief her actions had wrought.

She wasn’t certain how long she’d sat there reading through Shaw’s file and familiarizing herself with as much of it as she could before she finally shut down her computer. Gathering her purse and the few personal items she had, she made her way out of the office, her decision as good as made as she went.

This plan, this mission of hers was about something that was so much greater than herself, Shaw, or any human being alive. She had to prioritize the Machine above all else and if Sameen Shaw could offer her _any_ help in finding her, then Root had to utilize the lead. And, she thought as her lips curved up into a smile, she couldn’t deny that she was eager to meet the woman she’d read so much about.

That night and the next day seemed to pass by agonizingly slowly. Not even torturing Veronica Sinclair as she waited for Shaw was enough to make the time move faster, not when she knew that she was mere hours away from meeting Shaw again. Unfortunately for Root, Veronica knew very little and she wound up locking her in the bathroom when it drew close to time for Shaw to arrive.

Carefully checking her appearance in the mirror, she could see her eyes widen slightly at the sound of a knock on the door. Taking a deep, steady breath, she calmed and slipped into the role of Veronica as she strode purposefully towards the door.

Opening it, she kept her face carefully serious as she allowed Shaw to enter and shut the door behind her.

TO BE CONTINUED


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this a Christmas/whatever holiday you celebrate gift! I'm breaking my rule of staying a chapter ahead, but only because I have to re-watch a certain episode before writing the next part. I'm going to try a posting schedule of Mondays, but it's tentative since, as I mentioned which I started this story, I have an ever-changing work schedule and January is supposed to be our busiest month. But with this chapter, we're only one away from the halfway point!

Sometimes, Root still can’t believe how much her life had changed in such a short amount of time.

From being granted administrative access to losing it before finding the Machine _gone_ and nearly losing herself, she had been beyond grateful to get a second chance when the payphone inside the institution Harold had stashed her in had rung. Her voice had been on the other end and from there, Root’s life had taken on a purpose again.

Unfortunately, her purpose had been cut short when her first mission had been to team up with Sameen. She’d hardly had the heart to tase her in her bed and kidnap her, and her pulse had raced far too much (as the Machine told her) when she’d pinned Root to the seat of the car with her hand holding the knife against her skin.

Fear, guilt, arousal… They had all swirled around Root’s body like bits of disjointed code looking for a purpose she couldn’t provide. In her dark eyes, Root had once again seen the night of the accident and forced herself to put away anything she might be feeling for the other woman, knowing she had no right.

The mission had been successful and when Shaw had come back for her just when she’d thought she’d run out of luck, she’d been unable to stop grinning even as the Machine chirped a warning in her ear, having predicted Shaw’s anger, though not the punch. Root didn’t think even the Machine had predicted Shaw’s next move, however, and when she’d awoken again, it had been in a cage surrounded by books and little else.

And now, weeks later, here she still sat. Her fingernails were woefully bare; Harold did enough to ensure her basic survival and even tried to keep her entertained with books, but he didn’t seem to care much about the finer points of life. She tried not to let it bother her but some days she thought she’d go mad if she didn’t get out soon.

Then, Shaw had stopped by instead of Harold one day, the dog at her heels. Root smiled as she watched her unlock the door, setting the tray down in favor of keeping her USP Compact leveled at Root as she did so.

Once the door was opened, she’d set the tray down and paused. “Aren’t you gonna say anything?” she demanded irritably.

“I thought you might prefer it if I didn’t,” Root said with a coy smile, leaning forward. The clothes Harold had provided did little for her vanity, but the shirt she was wearing did allow for a bit of cleavage if she angled herself right. From the way Shaw’s gaze ticked down to her chest before she caught herself and glared at Root, she’d done just that.

“It’s creepy,” Shaw frowned even more severely.

“Well, what would you like to talk about, Shaw?” she questioned as she pulled the tray over to herself and began to eat, offering Bear a piece of sausage and smiling when he approached just long ago to accept before returning to Shaw. Maybe she could win over _one_ member of the team at any rate.

“When I brought you back here, I didn’t know Harold would do this,” she said, clearly uncomfortable with the topic as she gestured around the cage.

Root raised an eyebrow, surprised by the turn of events. “You mean after he locked me up the last time, you didn’t think he’d do it again?” she asked, unable to control the biting sarcasm in her tone. Past transgressions or not, Root was still angry about her current situation and the role Shaw had played in putting her there.

“It’s not the same,” Shaw shook her head. “I mean, yeah, we put you in the institution to keep you locked up mostly, but I don’t know, I figured therapy could be good for you,” she said awkwardly, looking stunned by her own words.

She almost smiled as things clicked into place but she feared such an action would send her running and break this rare moment between them. Instead, she sipped at her tea until the urge had passed. “Careful, Shaw. I might start to think you care about me.”

Shaw snorted. “Not likely,” she muttered. “It’s just… this is more inhumane than some prisons I’ve seen,” she shrugged. “If the Machine picked you out of Stoneridge, just seems to me that maybe it had a reason.”

“There are things at play that none of us can understand, Sameen,” she said softly, surprised to find an almost ally in her. “Things that only _She_ can predict because She’s more than any of us could ever hope to be. Harold and I… We’re supposed to work together and I’m not sure how things may go if we don’t.”

Shaw shook her head and abruptly turned to head back out of the cage, Bear hot on her heels, shutting and locking the door behind her as Root sighed. “I’m just the muscle, Harold’s the brains,” she told her abruptly, but Root could almost swear there was guilt in her eyes.

With that, she turned and walked away, leaving Root with a little hope that maybe Bear wasn’t the only one she could win over to her side.

~ ~ ~

After Shaw’s fourth visit to her little cage, Root had stopped listening to her guilt and decided to give in to the way she felt about the other woman. Flirting came as easily to Root as breathing, but somehow it was even easier when Sameen was in the enclosed space with her. Their conversations never lasted more than a few minutes before the Persian would remember herself and disappear, but Root was sure she was making progress.

One day, she appeared with a bottle of black nail polish and glaring more fiercely than usual. “Shut up,” she muttered preemptively as she shoved it towards Root.

“But sweetie, I didn’t say anything,” Root smiled coyly as she made a show of examining the nail polish. “I’m touched that you remembered.”

“I said shut up,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes and folding her arms over her chest defensively.

Root mimed zipping her lips and grinned when she noticed the edges of Shaw’s mouth quirk up in an almost smile. Settling back into her seat, she unscrewed the cap and set to work painting her nails, finding comfort in the familiar action and the way Shaw didn’t make a move to leave until she’d finished.

“What do you think?” she asked with a grin, waving her hands around like a child trying to dry them.

“Looks like you,” Shaw said dryly, stopping Root short.

“Thank you, Sameen,” she said softly, meeting her gaze intently until Shaw left without a word.

~ ~ ~

And then, things changed. She’d noticed the way Harold had seemed more on edge than usual when he brought her meal and the Machine had helpfully supplied an answer via Morse code by way of the streetlight outside her window. It seemed that the big lug and the officer who’d helped bring Hanna home were in trouble and Root was sincere when she offered her help.

Even if the Machine hadn’t wanted her to, she would have anyway. She owed Detective Carter and Harold’s little helper monkey a debt that she intended to repay.

Harold, of course, had refused and she hadn’t seen him again. Sameen brought her dinner and though she didn’t stay long, she could see the wheels turning when she offered her help once again, perhaps with even more sincerity as the Machine’s flashing of Carter’s name was growing more urgent by the hour.

“I can’t, Root,” she said, shaking her head. “Not without Harold’s okay.”

“And do you always do what Harold says?" Root couldn't help but tease with a smirk that only widened at Shaw's answering glare. Growing serious, she sighed. "Sameen, She’s warning me that something bad is coming,” Root countered, her eyes locked on Shaw’s with an intensity that she could see made her uncomfortable. “If you let me help, we could stop it. I’ll even promise to come back here when it’s done and they’re safe if it helps."

“Why do you even care?” Shaw asked crossly, and Root hid her smile at the obvious deflection and what it represented: she was making sense and Shaw didn’t like it.

“I owe them,” she said softly, the words bitter in her mouth. Root hated owing anybody anything, but it didn’t make the words any less true. “We can talk about why later, but for now, let me help.”

“I just know I’m going to regret this,” Shaw mumbled, glaring fiercely at Root before she swung the cage door open and stepped aside.

Bear whined as Root walked past, immediately ceasing when she turned to scratch behind his ears. “I’ll need a phone, please,” she smiled coyly, her veins on fire as she anticipated hearing the Machine’s voice again after so long.

Shaw rolled her eyes but plucked her own out of her pocket, handing it and the earwig to Root. “Your hands are shaking,” she pointed out with a frown.

“Wouldn’t yours if you were able to hear God’s voice again?” Root smirked, quickly putting the earwig in as the phone began to ring.

“ _Can. You. Hear. Me?”_

Root’s smile grew so wide that it hurt and she closed her eyes, savoring the relief she felt at the sound. “Absolutely,” she breathed. “What do you want me to do?”

TO BE CONTINUED


	5. Chapter 5

A small, vicious part of who Root used to be relished the look of horror on Harold’s face when she followed Shaw into the room.

“Ms. Shaw, have you completely lost your mind?” he sputtered, nearly spilling his tea on the keyboard in front of him as he glanced between the pair with wide eyes.

“No, but I think you have,” Shaw muttered and Root smirked. “Like it or not, Finch, she has a direct line to the Machine and we don’t have time to argue about this.”

“I know the big lug’s number came up, Harry,” Root chose to interject. “I don’t care for the man myself, but he means a great deal to you. I promise that I”ll return him to you unharmed, but you have to let me go.”

Harold pinned her with a hard stare and Root resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was adorable, really, the way he still seemed to think he could intimidate her.

“How could I ever let you go when I know with an almost absolute certainty that bad things will happen?” he answered gravely and she couldn’t resist rolling her eyes this time. Honestly, did he always have to be so melodramatic? Shaw snorted beside her and she allowed herself a small smile, guessing that she’d had a similar thought.

“Bad things will happen regardless,” she retorted, somewhat enjoying the unnerved look on his face as she fixed her gaze on him. “The question is, are you gonna let them happen to your friend?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Shaw interjected, rolling her eyes. “She’s already out and you sure as hell can’t put her back in that cage by yourself, Finch.” Root’s smile turned into a full-fledged grin as Shaw stood up for her even as the Persian scowled at her.

“I do hope you know what you’re doing, Ms. Shaw,” he replied reluctantly, glaring her way. “You’ll be fully taking responsibility for Ms. Groves and whatever she does out there.”

“What _Root_ is going to do,” Shaw glared back, making Finch cower slightly and Root beam at the emphasis on her name, “is help us save Carter and Reese’s ass and make sure Quinn makes it to the FBI. You’re letting your own shit put them in danger.”

Finch seemed to decide not to argue any more, much to Root’s relief, and she watched as he nodded and returned his attention to his computer. “You should enlist Detective Fusco’s help,” he said, resolutely not looking at them again. “We need as many allies in this fight as we can get.”

“You won’t regret this, Harry,” Root said, patting his shoulder as she followed Shaw from the room.

~ ~ ~

“What the hell are you doing here?” Fusco hissed as he left his son’s room and found Shaw waiting in his living room with some brunette who seemed to be talking to herself. “And who’s the broad?”

“Nice to meet you too, Lionel,” Root snickered, enjoying the way he jumped.

“Carter and Reese need our help,” Shaw told him. “We need to find them before all of HR does. I was thinking that you could check out the bridge--”

“Sorry to interrupt sweetie, but She says that’s a bad idea,” Root interjected. “He should check the subway,” she added, frowning as the Machine listed off the odds of Lionel coming to serious injury if he went to the roadblock. Although she’d just met the guy, she found that she rather liked him from what the Machine had told her about him.

“Who the hell is she and who’s she talking to?” Fusco demanded. “It sure as hell ain’t Glasses if it’s a she.”

“Don’t ask, Lionel,” Shaw said coolly, glancing at Root. “Fine, so you’ll watch the subway and we’ll go to the bridge.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Root beamed as the Machine told her the increased odds of success.

~ ~ ~

“Well, that was exciting,” Root grinned as she tucked her hair behind her ear and watched the ambulance She had told her Reese and Carter were in get through the roadblock. Although Shaw refused to let her have a gun, she was enjoying directing her aim via the Machine nearly as much as if she was shooting kneecaps herself. Nearly. She still hoped Shaw would give her a gun soon.

“Come on, Shaw, we’ve gotta move. They’ve figured out the shots came from this direction,” she said soberly, listening intently to the Machine as she led the way to an escape route.

They stole a nearby car and followed the Machine’s directions to a funeral home that had a few thugs and dirty cops outside of it. Creeping up to the building, they managed to find another entrance and Root picked the lock easily before swinging the door open.

Luckily, they took the security guard by surprise and Shaw made short work of knocking him out before tying him up with an extension cord near the desk. Root watched her work with no small amount of lust in her eyes. “I’m guessing he’s not the first person you’ve ever tied up,” she purred, falling back on her favorite coping mechanism easily.

Shaw snorted and gave her an indecipherable look over her shoulder. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she smirked, watching Root’s eyes widen in surprise.

“Well, now that you mention it...” she purred, stopping short as the Machine chirped in her ear. “Things just went from bad to worse, I’m afraid,” she sighed. “We’ll have to flirt later, Shaw, we’ve got to get to them _now_.”

She could see the annoyance on Shaw’s face and grinned as she led the way before she could come up with a response. When they burst into the room, Carter and the big lug were mid-kiss and she and Shaw shared a disgusted look while Shaw muttered something about timing that made Reese chuckle.

“Their reinforcements are here,” Root said shortly, ignoring the bewildered look Reese shot her, seeming to have just noticed her presence and Shaw muttering that she’d explain later. “Shaw and I will hold them off. Carter, you’ll focus on getting Quinn out of here and we’ll make sure you make it to the FBI. John, Finch has an escape route set up for you but we’ll need your help out there first.”

The big lug nodded, drawing his weapon and helping Carter open one of the drawers. Root grinned maliciously when she saw where they’d had Quinn stashed, starting to re-think her opinion of John after all. “The faster we move, the higher our odds of all of us surviving are,” she told them as she turned to face Shaw.

“ _Now_ may I have a gun, please?”

“Fine,” Shaw said through gritted teeth, handing her one.

Root inspected it, testing the feel of it in her hand and grinning. “May I have another one, please?”

Shaw eyed her warily. “Two guns at once? That’s kind of lame,” she groused even as she complied, making Root’s grin grow wider as excitement pulsed through her veins at the familiar feeling of the guns in her hands.

“Everybody ready?” she asked, feeling more alive than she had in months. She didn’t wait for a response, the Machine telling her to GO in her ear as she kicked open the door and fired a single shot down the hallway at the single cop there. “Let’s move.”

Root and Shaw took up the lead while Reese covered behind, keeping Carter and Quinn in the middle of the group as Root led the way to the exit. Root was pleased to see how well she and Shaw worked together as they took down threat after threat.

Finally, they’d made their way outside and Root nodded at John as a cop started to approach. “There’s your exit strategy,” she grinned, scanning the area for threats while Shaw moved to take up John’s soon-to-be-vacated position. “Harry thought you’d prefer incarceration to being killed and managed to find an honest cop to take you in,” she explained.

“Yeah, probably,” he said with a nod. Hesitating for a moment, he added, “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” she grinned, knowing the words didn’t come easy to him with their history. Then her expression turned serious as she met his gaze. “We’ll keep them safe,” she assured him, her voice quiet and sincere in an unplanned effort to ease the worry she saw in his eyes.

There wasn’t a chance for him to respond but she thought she saw his head dip in another nod as they hurried away before the cop got close enough to stop them all. She moved back to the front of the group, keeping an eye out and an ear open, trusting Shaw to guard their back as they made their way to the FBI office.

Managing to arrive without any further issue, Root grinned at Shaw as they watched Carter push Quinn through the doors and begin talking to someone nearby. “We make a pretty good team, wouldn’t you say?” she couldn’t help but tease.

Shaw rolled her eyes but Root didn’t miss the way the corners of her lips tugged upwards. “Whatever. That was kind of hot, though,” she admitted, and Root beamed but knew better than to press. She’d already gotten far more from Shaw than she’d expected for the day and she didn’t want to wreck it.

~ ~ ~

The next day, Shaw had returned to the cage in the library with a frown on her face as she faced Root. “Simmons is still missing,” she said without preamble, making Root sit up.

“That’s not good,” she said cautiously, wondering what it was Shaw wanted from her now. She hoped that it would involved her getting out of the cage again; although she’d returned of her own free will, it seemed even more unbearable now that she’d been granted a small taste of freedom.

“Everything’s wrapped up nice and neat,” Shaw frowned, crossing her arms over her chest and bouncing lightly on the balls of her feet. “I don’t like it.”

“You don’t think it’s over,” Root observed thoughtfully, turning her eyes to the streetlight outside and sighing when it remained steady. “What do you think we should do?”

Shaw swallowed, clearly uncomfortable. “I think you should talk to the Machine again and find out.”

Root nodded almost immediately and followed Shaw out of the cage. This time, she didn’t have to wait before Shaw’s earwig and phone were being pressed into her hands and she was speaking to the Machine in less than a minute.

“She says that she’s not sure if the threat has passed,” she frowned. “She can’t find Simmons so whatever he’s planning, it can’t be good.”

“Finch said that Carter was going to make sure Reese was released today,” Shaw said tightly, her eyes narrowing. “Maybe we should go by there too.”

“Just in case,” Root nodded, taking the Machine’s silence as agreement and falling into step with Shaw as they headed out of the library again.

~ ~ ~

It was night by the time they made it and Carter and Reese had just walked out of the building. Shaw and Root joined Harold where he stood and to his credit, he didn’t say a word about Root’s presence, just gave a heavy sigh that made Root smirk.

Suddenly, Root’s head whipped around and before anyone could react, she’d grabbed Shaw’s gun from her hip and fired off two quick shots at the Machine’s warning. John had already been hit but Root’s shot had made Simmons’ arm jerk just enough to throw off the trajectory of the bullet meant for Carter, sending it over her and, as the Machine told her, safely into a street sign.

Shaw was across the street before Root could react, and she could see from the horror on Finch’s face that he’d just realized she was holding a gun. “Sorry, Harry, there was no time to warn Shaw,” she shrugged, pocketing the gun and hurrying across the street to join the others.

Carter and Shaw were both hovering above John, Shaw pressing a piece of her shirt against his chest as Carter talked to him urgently. Root hung back, unsure of what she was supposed to do in a situation like this and not wanting to get in Shaw’s way.

Suddenly, Carter turned to face her with an unreadable expression on her face. “I don’t know how you did that,” she said slowly, clearly trying to distract herself as Shaw continued to work on stabilizing John. “But thank you.”

Root swallowed. She’d never handled gratitude well, not that she’d had much reason to need to. “I never thanked you,” she said softly, finding it easy to focus on anything but the moment at hand. “For bringing Hanna home.”

Carter’s eyes widened slightly and Root realized belatedly that she hadn’t met the detective before and she probably hadn’t realized who she was. Oh well, the cat was out of the bag now, she supposed.

“You’re Root.” It was a statement, not a question, but Root nodded anyway. “I wanted to apologize to you for the police not paying enough attention to you,” she said, shocking the hell out of Root. “It’s not the way it should have gone.”

Root swallowed thickly, memories of calling 911 and being so sure she’d help only for nothing to be done, of being shouted at and called a liar in the dark recesses of the library coming back to her far too vividly. “No, it’s not,” she said with a sad smile pulling at her lips. “But it’s what happened anyway. But you reminded me that there are still good people in the world. You and the big lug,” she said, turning to look back at John, who’d been stabilized as much as Shaw could manage.

Although she wasn’t sure what was coming next as she helped Shaw and Carter get John into Harry’s car and back to the library, she knew as she watched a stabilized John sleep with his hand in Carter’s that nothing would ever be the same.

And as she settled back into her cage at the library with a new sense of trust between her and the others under the Machine’s employ, she found a certain comfort in that.

TO BE CONTINUED

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: this subplot was not anywhere in my outline and just happened when I was writing the last chapter. Once I'd written it, I fell in love with the idea and decided to run with it! 
> 
> Shit's going to hit the fan in chapter 7, so stay tuned!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how short this one is! We're mostly sticking to canon for this one with a few twists. Honestly, I debated cutting it but I think it's important for Root's development.
> 
> Next chapter will be much more action-packed (and lengthier), though, so stay tuned!

Root had never meant to develop feelings for Shaw, intending only on using her favorite defense mechanism of flirting to keep the other woman at arms’ length as the months passed and the pair occasionally worked together.

But as their ‘missions’ together grew in frequency and in intimacy, Root realized with a start that’s exactly what had happened. As luck would have it, her revelation had occurred as the pair sipped drinks together in Miami after stealing a jet and taking down a relevant number together. It had been a fun time in more ways than one, and as Root smiled over at Shaw, she’d been disappointed to get another mission from the Machine. 

Root didn’t get disappointed; she lived for the missions she had been handpicked to carry out for her God, and she’d been completely taken aback by the sensation.

Guilt followed her realization, guilt that would gnaw away at her every time she shared a moment with Shaw knowing that she was keeping a huge secret from her. But her feelings, once realized, only seemed to grow with intensity and as they spent more time together, Root found a way to ignore it as best she could and savor the moments they shared. 

When Shaw came to her rescue at the Samaritan warehouse, Root had almost told her everything. She’d never expected to make it out from delivering the servers they’d altered, and even with Shaw’s help, the most she’d allowed herself to hope for was that the other woman would survive. 

But then Shaw had grumbled about cutting the stupid chip out of her arm and Root had answered with her usual barely-veiled innuendo and the moment had been lost. Luckily so, as it turned out since they both walked out of the facility that night. 

As it turned out, the only thing Root missed more than hearing the Machine’s voice in her ear was seeing Shaw roll her eyes at her or hearing her bark some delightful simile posing as an insult that she could see right through. The months without seeing Shaw were hard, but she thought having to visit her at her boring cover and not being able to be herself with her might have been even harder. 

Still, as time passed and they found more excuses to interact and just be with each other, Root had found herself grateful for the stolen moments. Two gods were at war and with the Machine’s army so small, she was prepared for the possibility that they wouldn’t all make it out alive. 

Throwing her guilt to the side once and for all, Root allowed herself to be with Shaw without any regrets. She knew that a day of reckoning was sure to come, maybe sooner rather than later, but she’d deal with it when the time came. For now, all that she was focused on was living from day to day, never knowing when it might be her last. 

So when the night comes that Shaw invites her into her bed for the first time since their night in the CIA safe house, Root doesn’t think twice about accepting and everything snowballs from there.

One night, Shaw had even let her stay after the sex, after gruffly telling her to stay on her own side of the bed, of course. Root had watched her sleep and smiled to herself as she thought about the names Shaw would call her if she’d caught her but not willing to give up a single moment she could steal with the other woman. 

She wondered how different their lives might have been if they’d crossed paths for the first time in that hotel room instead of as kids on direct path with tragedy that would affect them both forever. She swallowed and forced her mind from that train of thought, refusing to go there. 

But a line had been crossed with Sameen allowing her to stay. As the Machine re-routed a radio signal into her implant to inform her of a new mission, Root decided that it was time for her to come clean about their shared past and her role in it. 

She slipped out of the apartment in the early morning light, leaving a note for Shaw that she could already imagine her rolling her eyes at when she read it. She smiled all the way to the airport, feeling lighter than she had in a long time even with the dread pooling in her stomach. 

But then, all hell had broken loose. 

Root had barely returned to New York when she got Her warning that Shaw’s cover had been blown. She’d made it to the department store with seconds to spare, hardly sparing Sameen a glance as she ordered her to get on the bike. 

She wasn’t sure she could have stayed focused if she had. 

Once they were safely hidden on the truck, she’d held onto Sameen a fraction of a second too long but she couldn’t even smile when Shaw had grumbled at her. She’d stared at her in the darkness, the truth she’d been prepared to tell dying on her tongue as she realized that she couldn’t do it. 

Coward though she may be, Root thought grimly as she watched Shaw distract herself, she couldn’t bring herself to bring the woman before her even more grief. And selfishly, she knew that she wouldn’t do that to herself either. 

Somehow, it made the look of betrayal in Sameen’s eyes when she later drugged her and dragged her back to the subway hurt even more. 

TO BE CONTINUED


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost to the end! Hope you're still enjoying the ride :)

Root made certain to be at the subway when Sameen woke up, unsure if it was a wise decision but knowing that she couldn’t be anywhere else. Still dressed in the bear costume she’d spent the last two hours trapped in while entertaining at a children’s party, she tried to make light of the situation but quickly gave up when Shaw gave her the silent treatment.

She slipped out of the costume easily and sat down beside the other woman just as Harold offered her a sandwich, watching with amusement as she snatched it from his hand and started trying to rip the wrapper off with her teeth and one free hand. She considered helping but decided against it; there was something primal about Shaw and food that she thoroughly enjoyed and it was only maximized by her silent fury.

“So how long do you nerds expect to keep me locked up?” Shaw asked after she’d aggressively eaten a few bites, cutting through to the heart of the matter the way she always had.

Harold had retreated to his computer quickly, clearly preferring to stay out of Shaw’s range. He was clearly uncomfortable as he turned to face her and replied, “Until it’s safe for you… and us. If Samaritan and its’ human agents discover you, it could lead them to every single one of us.”

Root had to bite back a laugh at the look on Sameen’s face; her girl truly was a firecracker, she thought fondly, and she wasn’t disappointed to hear her response.

“Guilt, Harold? Really? You know, normally that wouldn’t work on me,” she paused, turning to look at Root’s smirk with a frown and continuing with words clearly aimed at her, “But I wouldn’t anything to happen… to the _dog._ ”

Root just smiled as Bear whined upon hearing his name. She knew Shaw was pissed at her and she would be for a while, but she was safe and Root knew she would take all the insults the Persian could throw at her if that was the price she had to pay for it.

“I’m glad we all agree that you’ll stay locked up, sweetie,” she said, her smile widening at Shaw’s annoyed huff. “Especially since we all know it would be impossible to keep you locked up… against your will anyway,” she continued, her smile turning into a suggestive smirk even as Sameen raised her now-freed wrist and let the cuffs clatter to the bench with a mocking smile and a wave of her now-free hand.

“So true,” she said smugly, standing and approaching the computer desk.

Root mostly tuned out Shaw’s conversation with Harold as she studied the cuffs and the bench, trying to work out how Shaw had managed it. She’d made certain to steal top of the line handcuffs this time, knowing that Sameen had an amazing ability to escape bonds. True, she hadn’t expected for her to stay locked up for long, but she hadn’t been expecting for her escape to be so quick, she thought with a bemused smile as she shook her head. Sameen’s ability to constantly surprise her was one of her favorite things about her and she gave up on trying to unlock this mystery.

All too soon, the Machine was sending her a signal that it was time for her to go. She sighed, wishing not for the first time that She could just speak to her the way She’d once done instead of having to be so covert. “I understand,” she said softly, though she saw Shaw turn to look at her with a frown on her face.

“Time for me to go, sweetie,” she told her, hesitating slightly as she instinctively moved to approach her. Harold had gone home hours ago, clearly still nervous about being around a caged Shaw, but Root had been working on the app the Machine had asked her to design and the pair hadn’t spoken yet.

She swallowed, most of her brain screaming at her to run before Shaw could rip into her for what she’d done, before she had to face the consequences of her actions. But she knew that she couldn’t do that even as she moved closer to the other woman. She’d run once before when she might have been able to help and she knew she could never do such a thing to Sameen again.

And that wasn’t even to mention the unspoken truth that always hung in the air between them. The knowledge that she might not return from one of these missions or worse, that Sameen might not be there when she got back haunted Root and kept her from bolting the way she longed to do.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly, the words lingering in the air between them after she’d forced them out. Shaw’s face was blank as she stared at her, but Root could see the flicker of emotions in her dark eyes and knew that she was processing her words. She was always surprised when she remembered that others didn’t understand Sameen. To her, Sameen was the easiest of anyone she’d ever met to understand because all you had to do was watch her eyes. They gave away just a glimpse of what she was thinking but it was more than enough for Root to understand.

“If John wasn’t okay, I’d shoot you myself,” Shaw finally replied, her voice tight and controlled but with something else underneath that made Root’s stomach tighten. Then she sighed and Root could feel the tension leave her as her lips quirked up just a bit in a smile. “But he is and I get it,” she admitted, though she clearly didn’t like it. “Probably would have done the same thing if the situation was reversed,” she smirked.

Root smiled as relief flooded her. “So I’ll see you here when I get back?” she asked tentatively, part of her still wary of her sudden understanding and wondering if it was too good to be true.

“Yeah,” Shaw breathed, glancing over at Bear with a genuine smile that set Root’s stomach to fluttering. “At least the company’s not too bad.”

“Should have used Bear as a selling point,” Root laughed, gently touching Shaw’s arm and finally feeling at ease. “Thank you,” she said, feeling more secure in leaving with the other woman’s assurance that she’d stay put and out of danger.

“Whatever, Root,” Shaw huffed, rolling her eyes in a familiar act that made Root grin. “But try that again and I _will_ shoot you.”

“Duly noted,” Root said with a smirk, leaning down to kiss Shaw’s cheek and hurrying out, leaving Shaw’s protests still on her lips.

Her steps felt lighter than they had in months and she was more determined than ever to stop Samaritan in its’ tracks as she headed into the city. For the first time, she had hope of having a real-life with someone and she’d be damned if she let anything take that away from her.

x x x x x x x x x

Her mission in New York City was taken care of rather quickly, if disturbingly; the child Samaritan employed as its’ interface bothered Root more than she cared to admit but she knew there was nothing she could do about that now. She did wonder where the child’s parents were and how he’d come to be Samaritan’s voice, but she didn’t dare ask the Machine.

She was too afraid to hear Her answer even if She could have given it. What had likely been done to his parents and what had been done to the little boy was dangerously close to what had happened to Hanna and she suspected that was yet another reason that Samaritan had chosen him.

It made her hate the rival AI all the more and fueled her desire to end it once and for all.

Unfortunately, that mission was followed by another that wasn’t anywhere close by or taken care of as quickly.

In the end, she’d been gone for nearly a month before she was able to return home. Her first stop was at the hotel room the Machine had booked for her and she showered, changed and blow-dried her hair as quickly as she could, thoughts of Sameen all that she could think of as she did.

It had been over a week since she’d spoken to Sameen, not wanting to spook the woman by being _too_ overly eager. And though Harold had assured her that she was staying put and helping from the sidelines, Root knew that she wouldn’t be able to rest until she saw so for herself.

As she entered the subway, she couldn’t help but smile as she saw Bear sleeping in his bed. But the smile turned into a frown when she let her eyes take in the rest of the subway and she realized that she couldn’t see Sameen anywhere.

“Shaw?” she called out softly, her body tensing as she felt the tension in the air, suddenly certain that something was wrong with an instinct that had been honed by time and experience in equal measure. “Shaw, please answer me,” she said weakly, swallowing hard as her heart began to race.

She hesitated for a moment, debating whether she should venture further or retreat and call Harold and John for assistance. Suddenly there was a loud clatter that came from behind the subway car and her decision was made. The uneasy feeling in her gut only grew worse as she started walking towards the abandoned vehicle, her hand automatically going to her gun that was tucked into the back of her pants.

Peeking around the corner of the car, she gasped when she was met with a hand tight around her throat and her legs being taken out from under her by a well-placed kick to the back of her knee. She clawed at the tightening hand around her throat even as she started to see black, but her attacker had her in a vulnerable position and her efforts grew weaker and more ineffective by the moment.

Her last thought before she blacked out was that she hoped Sameen had made it out before whoever this was had found the station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case the timeline is hard to understand, this all takes place before If-Then-Else and we're delving into a completely separate timeline after The Cold War.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that it's mentioned in the tags, but I wanted to give a warning for mention of child abuse. It's implied, not shown, but I don't want to take anyone by surprise with such a sensitive subject. 
> 
> Here we are! I know I'm a bit late but this is such a pivotal chapter that I wanted to make sure it was as close to perfect as I could get it before posting. My outline has basically been obliterated at this point, so I'm not sure if the next one will be posted Monday or later, it will all depend on where I end up taking the story, as will the length! For now, I'm going to leave it at 10 chapters on here, but I'm not against it going longer or shorter, so we'll see! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy, thank you for sticking with this story and please let me know what you think!

Root groaned, feeling as though she was trying to swim her way up through quicksand that threatened to pull her under again as she slowly started to regain consciousness. But she’d never been anything less than a fighter and each time it threatened to pull her down, she found a surge of energy to fight back.

Finally, she made it and tried to open her eyes just a sliver, all-too-familiar with how agonizing the sudden brightness would be if she opened them fully, only to be met with complete and total darkness.

Frowning, she felt the first stirrings of panic in her chest as she sucked in a breath, her hands squeezing into fists and feeling the bite of something against her wrists as they did. _Zip ties,_ she thought with a cold chill, recognizing the feel of them. _Zip ties and a hood._

Suddenly, her memories came rushing back and the stirrings turned into full-fledged panic as she remembered it all. Returning to the subway eager to see Shaw, finding no sign of her but hearing a noise, being choked into unconsciousness by an unseen figure… Her stomach clenched as she tried to quiet her breathing and focusing on listening with her one good ear instead.

The world remained completely silent around her and somehow, it made her sudden claustrophobia worse. Ever since the night of the car accident, she’s struggled with enclosed spaces and the feeling of helplessness that accompanied them and the hood sudden felt unbearably tight. Sucking in a shallow breath, she felt like she was being suffocated and no amount of self-control could stop her from thrashing in the chair, trying desperately to break free from it.

And as suddenly as it began, it all stopped as the hood was ripped from her head and the sudden light pierced Root’s eyes painfully, making her squeeze them tightly closed as she sucked in a grateful breath. She was careful as she slowly opened them again, just a little at a time as they adjusted, but the area in front of her was still void of any information that she could use.

She was facing the subway car and a sigh of relief passed her lips as she saw the Machine’s servers were all still up and running, the computer monitor untouched. There didn’t appear to be any signs of a struggle that she could see and, thankfully, she couldn’t see any sign of violence at all. Then she saw that Bear was still lying in his bed, chewing on a rawhide bone and looking unbothered, though he did whine when he saw her watching him.

Suddenly, a memory crashed into her and she realized that she’d seen Bear when she came into the station earlier as well. She frowned, unease and dread curling in the pit of her stomach as she tried to rationalize why Bear wouldn’t be reacting to a sinister presence in their headquarters then _or_ now. Her heart sank lower still as she came to the only realization she possibly could: _her attacker hadn’t been a stranger at all._

As though knowing what Root was thinking, a figure finally stepped into view and Root wanted nothing more to keep staring at Bear and avoiding the situation at hand, her desire to know who had attacked her and tied her up evaporating into thin air as quickly as the answer had moved towards her.

But she’d never been one to back down from anything, and she hardened both her heart and her face, making sure that her expression would reveal nothing as she finally lifted her gaze to meet Shaw’s.

“This wasn’t quite the welcome home I was expecting,” she said after a moment of intense eye contact, reaching for a lighthearted tone and mostly succeeding, pretending to ignore the crack she could hear in it. “If you wanted to experiment, Sameen, all you had to do was ask.”

“Don’t call me that,” Shaw said flatly, her face mostly unreadable as she stared at Root, but as always, her eyes told the story. She could see the unbridled fury in their dark depths and for the first time, she didn’t find it anything less than terrifying.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Sam, but--”

“Shut-up,” Shaw ordered, her voice as sharp as a knife’s edge and Root obeyed, swallowing hard as she fought the urge to tremble. “You’ve played me for long enough.”

“Played you? Sameen, I’ve never--” Root began pleadingly.

“ _You don’t get to call me that,”_ Shaw bit off, glaring at Root more fiercely than she’d ever done. Not even when ‘Veronica Sinclair’ had been holding an iron to her face or when she’d woken up zip-tied to a steering wheel after Root had tased and kidnapped her had she looked quite like this and, for the first time, Root wondered if she should be truly afraid of this stranger in front of her.

“Okay, fine. What’s going on, Shaw?” she asked meekly, fighting the instinct to try and untie her bonds. Shaw was exceptionally good at restraining people and she knew that she’d never make it out; the most she would do was to piss Shaw off even more when she inevitably caught her trying and that was the last thing she needed.

Shaw stalked into the subway car and returned with a photo. Studying it, she kept the back covered with her hand so that Root couldn’t see through it and a slow, dangerous smile crept onto her face that chilled Root to the bone.

“While you were gone, Harold asked me to organize what was left of the files,” she began slowly. “There wasn’t much that they could get from the library before they left, but there’s enough to be clutter with how unorganized it all was.”

She paused, clearly enjoying Root’s discomfort as she teased the moment out and Root was reminded again of how much Shaw _enjoyed this sort of thing._ “Imagine my surprise when I pulled out a photo of someone I recognized, even though I was still working the relevant numbers when they found it, _Samantha._ ”

_No, no, no._ Root’s brain felt like it was malfunctioning, like a virus had crept into her code and was damaging it beyond repair. Her blood felt frozen in her veins as she struggled to take another breath, realization hitting her like a freight train.

She’d been so stupidly smug that she could keep the truth from Shaw and protect her from the pain of knowing that Root had been responsible for her father’s death. She had played out every scenario she could think of and been satisfied that she’d covered her every track… but she hadn’t. She’d failed and now Shaw was more hurt than she might otherwise have been because _Root had lied to her._

Root swallowed hard, the name she hadn’t used in a decade telling her all that she needed to know about the photo, and it was enough to make her mountain of carefully constructed lies come down around her.

Lie – She’d been lying to Shaw for her own good.

Truth – She’d lied to Shaw because it was easier, more convenient for Root to avoid facing her past transgressions and possibly losing Shaw.

Lie – Everything would work out because Root was a different person now. It didn’t matter if she told Shaw or not because they’d both left their pasts behind them and understood that they weren’t the same people anymore. They both had things they’d rather not talk about and it was a silent understanding between them.

Truth – Root had still been hiding this entire time. Hiding from the truth of her and Shaw’s intertwined past and from her own laundry list of transgressions that still haunted her. She’d only been fooling herself and now, Shaw was hurt again because of her.

“Shaw,” she whispered, unsure of what she wanted to say.

“Were you ever gonna tell me?” Shaw demanded, cutting her off with deadly fury lacing her tone as she turned the photo to Root and Root winced at the sight of her and Hanna. “Samantha Groves?”

Wincing in pain as Shaw used the name of the person she’d fought so hard to leave in the past again, Root’s eyes were filled with pain as she lifted them to meet Shaw’s. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, shaking her head as she fought back tears. “I wanted to tell you but I was scared.”

“That’s no excuse,” Shaw said simply, shaking her head. “How long have you known? And I swear to god, Root, if you lie to me again--”

“Since before we met,” she cut her off, closing her eyes against the loathing evident in Shaw’s eyes now. She found the words came easier when she didn’t have to look at anything and she spoke quickly, eager to rid herself of the lies. “I had looked you up after the accident to see what had happened so when I was working for Special Counsel and they mentioned your name, I knew who you were.”

She swallowed again. “I almost didn’t take the opportunity because I didn’t want to hurt you any more than I already had,” she said softly.

“But you still set me up,” Shaw said, her voice flat. “And you still let all of this play out without telling me a damn thing about it.”

Root nodded weakly, forcing her eyes open again. “I wanted to tell you at first,” she whispered. “But I needed your help to get out of the cage and then I started to really like you,” she swallowed, letting out a bitter laugh.

“I lied to myself so much, Shaw. I told myself that I was doing it to protect you. I didn’t want to hurt you again, not after what I’d already done. But I can see it all now,” she swallowed. “I can see that I was just trying to protect myself. I knew that you’d hate me when you knew that I’d killed your father and now you do.”

Shaw frowned, unease settling into her eyes as they narrowed. “What do you mean, you killed him?”

“Oh right,” Root breathed, relishing in the grounding feeling as she rubbed her wrists against the zip ties. She wasn’t trying to escape but merely causing herself the pain she knew she deserved. “You don’t know.”

“My mom was a drunk. That night, I’d made into a stupid program at school that I was proud of and she slipped out to find a bar, knowing I’d be too distracted to stop her. She took every opportunity to get plastered and when it was over, I knew where to find her. I practically had to drag her out, she was so gone,” she rolled her eyes, trying to play off the seriousness of that night even as she struggled against the sudden tightness in her chest from the memory.

“I should have known better. I was supposed to be the smartest kid in Bishop, that’s what all the dumb tests said. But I wasn’t smart enough to figure out that putting a drunk woman behind the wheel of a car was a bad idea,” she scoffed, voice oozing with self-hatred and guilt in near-equal measure. “But I was just a stupid, rotten kid who was too pissed that my drunk of a mother had ruined another night that was supposed to be special and I just climbed into the backseat to sulk.”

“Root--”

“She wouldn’t stop after the accident. I called 911 when we got home,” she continued, her eyes unfocused and glassy as she stared right through Shaw. “I couldn’t go to school for nearly a week because she was too drunk to remember to avoid leaving visible marks and the dislocated shoulder was a real bitch, but it was worth it when I realized that you’d survived the crash.”

The silence that followed was almost tangible in its’ thickness as it hung between them, Root’s eyes finally focusing and staring into Shaw’s with a defiance she hadn’t known she was still capable of. For once, she thought she understood why others found Shaw hard to read and she jolted as she realized that Shaw must have _let_ her see what she was feeling in her eyes because now they were entirely void of anything and Root had no idea what she was thinking.

“I can’t stay here,” Shaw said abruptly, but her tone had softened. “I need to figure some things out.”

“Shaw, _please_ ,” Root swallowed, squirming in the chair. “Just _talk_ to me,” she pleaded, clenching her fists and relishing in the feel of the coarse zip ties digging into the torn flesh of her wrists again. _She can’t leave me, not like this. What if I never see her again?_

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” Shaw exhaled noisily, turning back to Root. “You were a goddamn _kid,_ Root, just like I was. Your mother is the one who killed my dad,” she said bitterly, “But I’m still pissed, Root. I’m so pissed that you’ve lied to me about everything since the moment we met. You should have trusted me enough to tell me the truth.”

With that, she spun on her heel and other than a terse command muttered to Bear when he tried to follow, she left the station without saying a word, ignoring Root’s pleas for her to come back with a hardened and heavy heart.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one more chapter to go! Thanks to anyone who's still sticking around and I hope you're enjoying the ride :)

As soon as Shaw had started walking away, Root had started trying to escape her bonds. Any thought of making her angrier disappeared in the larger and much scarier notion of Shaw _leaving_ , disappearing into the overwhelming crowd of New Yorkers and perhaps never coming back.

And even worse still, Shaw’s cover was blown and it wasn’t safe for her to be on the streets. She knew that the Persian had the shadow map and probably wouldn’t take any risks, but it came as little comfort when Samaritan had caught on to its’ blind spot and had any number of operatives who knew their faces as prime targets.

She didn’t know how long she’d been struggling when Harold had come, but the ragged and bleeding flesh of her wrists were a testament to the fact it must have been a while.

“Oh my,” Harold breathed in dismay after he’d cut the zip ties away, tenderly holding her hands in his as he examined the damage with a sympathetic eye. “What happened here, Ms. Groves?”

Root grimaced and took a slow, even breath, her old name sounding even worse after the way Shaw had said it. “Shaw,” she breathed, willing her face to remain neutral as she did. “She’s gone, Harry,” she swallowed, pulling her hands back and standing up all too fast, making her sway until Harold put a steadying arm around her. “We have to find her.”

“And we will,” he said soothingly, easing her back into the chair. His eyes held a million questions that Root didn’t want to give the answers to but thankfully, he held them inside as he retrieved a medical kit and met her gaze. “Whatever happened between you and Ms. Shaw, I do hope you know that you can talk to me,” he said softly, his eyes warm and kind and making Root’s breath catch in her throat. “I’d like to think that we’re friends.”

“We are friends, Harry,” Root smiled coyly, wondering at the warmth that filled her veins at his words. “But I don’t know what you’d think of me if I told you.” She hissed at the sudden burning in her wrists as Harold set to work trying to quickly but gently clean them.

“Ms. Groves, I think you’ll find that all of us have done things we aren’t particularly proud of,” he replied, intently focusing on her wrists as he finished with the ointment. Opening a packet of gauze, he kept his touch gentle as he wound it around one wrist and secured it before repeating the action with the other.

Finished, he raised his gaze to meet hers once again. “I know you might not have reason to believe me, given our rather _checkered_ past,” he sighed. “But I assure you that I will listen with an open mind, should you choose to confide in me… Root.”

Root swallowed hard as the rare use of her name coming from Harry pushed her over the edge. Blinking back her tears, she let out a sigh as she slumped over in the chair. “My mom was a drunk. Did you know that, Harry.” she asked with a pained smile. “I know they told John that she ‘wasn’t well’, but that’s just code for being an alcoholic in Texas.” She coughed and gratefully took the bottle of water Harold handed her, taking a long sip before setting it to the side.

“She was driving us home after I’d dragged her out of a bar when she crashed into another car.” Her eyes dropped to study the concrete of the subway floor, unable to meet Harold’s eyes as she whispered, “Shaw was in it.”

“Oh my,” Harold murmured, and she couldn’t help but look up, surprised and grateful at the lack of judgment she saw in his eyes.

“We saw each other for just a moment before that happened,” she sighed. “Harry, I’ve known who she was and what my mom did before we even met. And now… Now she knows,” she swallowed. “She’s furious and I don’t blame her.”

“Ms. Groves… _Root_ ,” Harold said gently, putting a calming hand on her shoulder. Root stared at it with wide, vulnerable eyes, surprised by the gesture. “What did Ms. Shaw say to you before she left?”

“She said she needed some time,” she sighed. “And… that it wasn’t my fault,” she added after a moment, her voice much smaller than usual.

“Do you blame yourself?” he asked, compassion and curiosity evident in his tone.

“How could I not, Harry?” she sighed. “I could have taken the keys or gotten us a motel room or something. I didn’t just let her drive, I led her to the car and practically pushed her in.”

“You couldn’t have been terribly old when this happened,” he said gently. “I’ve no doubt that you simply weren’t thinking of the consequences. I needn't remind you that's not terribly unheard of for children."

Root finally met his gaze again, her eyes glinting with tears as she gave him a sad smile. “Thanks, Harry,” she said softly. “I’m just worried about her,” she admitted, her eyes trailing off to the entrance to the subway. “Her cover’s blown and Samaritan and its’ agents are looking for her.”

“Ms. Shaw can take care of herself quite well,” he said, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze before slowly standing. “I do hope you won’t do anything rash. I’m afraid that going into pursuit of her might be a bad idea. She said she needed time, correct? Trust her enough to give it to her and I suspect she’ll come around.”

She sighed, seeing the sense in his words. “I guess you’re right, Harry,” she said reluctantly.

“In the meantime, we appear to have a new number,” he told her with a slight smile. “I’ll have Detective Riley take the first shift while you get some rest.”

Root slowly stood up, finding it easier this time although she was still unsteady on her feet. “Mind if I take the cot, Harry?” she asked with a slight smile, trying to ignore the stabbing pain in her heart as she tried to imagine going back to her apartment alone.

“Of course,” he agreed without hesitation, giving her a kind smile. “I’ll wake you when it’s time.”

“Thanks, Harry,” she said with a grateful smile, stealing away into the former closet-turned-makeshift bedroom. Stretching, she winced at the pain in her wrists and climbed onto the cot. Tucking her too long limbs in as tightly as she could, she suddenly smiled when she heard Bear whine from somewhere nearby.

“Bear, _hier,”_ she commanded softly, smiling drowsily as she felt a thump somewhere near her legs a moment before she felt a rough lick on her cheek. She turned over when she felt him settle near her side, putting an arm over him and letting her fingers twist in his fur.

Feeling as safe and secure as she knew she was likely going to for a long while, Root drifted off to sleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

As agonizingly slow days turned into weeks, Root began to find a new sort of normal. The numbers never stopped coming and although there were many times she longed to ask the Machine for an update on Sameen, Harold’s words would always come back to her and she’d resist.But she was only human, after all, and she couldn’t stop her heart from beating excitedly in her chest every time she saw a short woman with dark hair pulled back into a ponytail in a crowd. But she was met with disappointment every time and eventually stopped looking at their faces, hoping it would ease the pain.

With Sameen gone, Root spent more and more time at the subway when the Machine didn’t have another mission for her. She and Bear found a certain comfort in each other and more and more, she returned to the subway at night to share the cot with him.

She knew that she was slowly moving past the point of just surviving, but it hurt to think about living a life without Sameen. Still, she knew that the Persian wouldn’t be found before she wanted to be and that the only thing she could do would be to wait and to trust that what they had shared was enough to bring her back.

Tonight was a harder night than usual, she thought with a sigh as she ran her fingers through Bear’s fur and felt an answering lick on her arm. She chuckled at the sensation despite her inner turmoil and repeated the action, frowning when he suddenly stiffened and brought his head up.

Trying to turn her head to see what Bear was looking at, Root couldn’t see anything but darkness beyond the dimly lit room. He was facing the entrance, his ears standing at attention and his body language tense, though he wasn’t growling. That was a good sign, Root thought warily as she sat up and aimed her gun at the doorway.

Another good sign was that the Machine hadn’t sent her any kind of a warning. No matter how stealthy Samaritan operatives were, they couldn’t enter the subway without passing several security cameras and if any of the cameras were disabled, the Machine would have warned her of that too.

That didn’t leave very many options, but Root wasn’t about to take any chances. Carefully standing, she smiled when Bear followed, shadowing her as they crept towards the door.

Suddenly, he broke away from her with an excited woof and Root frowned as she hurried after him, her eyes scanning the dark subway as her heart beat faster in nervous anticipation, unable to stop thinking about the day that Shaw had taken her prisoner.

Somehow, she wasn’t even surprised to hear a familiar low voice from the darkness. “Some homecoming.”

Root’s eyes widened and she couldn’t help the hopefulness in her tone as she whispered, “Shaw?”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow, we've reached the end! It's honestly been so long since I finished a series that I can't quite believe it! 
> 
> Thanks to all of you who have stuck with this story, I hope you've enjoyed the ride and will enjoy the conclusion! I appreciate all of your kudos and comments so much!

Suddenly the lights came on and Root blinked, squinting into the sudden brightness. As her eyes adjusted, she couldn’t help but suck in a sharp breath at the sight of Sameen standing across the room from her with Bear at her side. She was scratching behind his ears but her eyes were trained on Root, scrutinizing her.

Swallowing nervously, Root moved closer but stopped several feet away, unsure of how close Shaw wanted her to get. “I’m glad you’re here, Shaw,” she said softly, drinking in her appearance. “I was worried about you.”

“What, the Machine didn’t give you updates on me?” Shaw snorted, clearly trying to deflect the uncomfortable conversation they both knew was coming.

“I asked Her not to,” Root answered, meeting Shaw’s gaze more steadily than she’d expected. “I didn’t think you’d like it.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” Shaw allowed with a stiff nod, trying to hide her surprise.

“We need to talk,” Root said, walking into the subway car and sitting in Harold’s chair. She swiveled to face the door and therefore Shaw, leaning forward as she looked at the woman expectantly.

“Whatever,” Shaw said with a roll of her eyes, but she moved closer anyway with Bear hot on her heels. “You want to know what I don’t get, Root?” She paused for just a beat, not giving Root a chance to answer before she continued. “You called the cops but you never told anyone that your mom was the one who caused the accident.”

Root exhaled slowly and nodded. “I don’t fully understand it either,” she admitted quietly. “But I did kind of figure it out when I was learning psychology for one of my aliases,” she continued with a slight smile as she remembered her experience playing Caroline Turing.

“Yeah?” Shaw prompted, folding her arms across her chest as Bear went to his bed, seemingly content that she wasn’t going to run off again.

“I never had a real childhood. For as long as I can remember, I was the one who took care of myself and my mother. I learned to cook when I was eight years old and before that, I’d buy microwavable meals.” She swallowed.

“When she started drinking, I don’t know, but she had for as long as I could remember. And when she got really drunk….” She cleared her throat, determined not to cry. “She’d punish me and tell me that I’d ruined her life. I believed her too, at first anyway, and I’d tell myself that if I was a better daughter, if I took care of us better, that she wouldn’t be like that. And I believed myself too.”

“Root--”

She shook her head. “If I don’t say this now, I won’t,” she told Shaw with an apologetic smile. “I’ve never told anyone this.” When Shaw nodded, she took a deep breath and continued.

“By the time I was nine, I’d realized it was all bullshit, but I still felt responsible for her. After the wreck… I’ve always blamed myself, not her. I was supposedly the smartest kid in Bishop but I didn’t know enough not to let my drunk mother behind the wheel of a car,” she laughed bitterly.

“So I guess in some ways, I didn’t turn her in because I didn’t feel like it was entirely her fault,” she sighed. “But most of it was because I felt so obligated to protect her even though I hated her. Protecting her was the only thing I knew how to do back then and I thought it was the right thing to do.”

Root paused, watching Shaw mull over her words as her hands nervously fidgeted in her lap. She knew that there was no excuse for what she’d done, but she hoped that explaining some of her past would help Sameen to understand why she’d done it.

“I guess I get that,” Shaw said slowly after a minute, meeting Root’s eyes. “But why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

“I wanted to,” she said softly, blinking back tears as she lay herself bare. “At first, I just thought you were better off knowing but then it became about protecting you,” she sighed. “I thought that I’d subjected you to enough trauma and that telling you the truth would just hurt you more.”

Shaw snorted and somehow, the sound seemed to break the tension between them and Root couldn’t help but smirk as she suddenly felt more comfortable. “How’s that working out for you?” she said dryly.

“Badly,” Root laughed, shaking her head. “I was being selfish again by not telling you. I didn’t want to face the consequences,” she told her honestly, the words coming more easily now. “And I guess that in some ways, I still think of myself as needing to protect everyone,” she said with a roll of her eyes.

“Root?”

Root looked at her expectantly.

“For someone so smart, you can be a real idiot sometimes.”

She couldn’t help but chuckle as she nodded in agreement. “I’ve learned that.”

“The wreck wasn’t your fault, but I’m still pissed that you didn’t tell me the truth.”

“I’m working on believing you, sweetie,” Root dared to slip the pet name in, feeling relieved when Shaw didn’t say anything about it. “And I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, just don’t do anything stupid like that again,” Shaw grumbled.

Hope flared in Root’s chest at the words and she beamed. “I’ll try not to,” she replied.

“And you’re going to have to buy me a lot of meals before I forgive you,” Shaw smirked, glancing over at her. “Starting now. I’m starving.”

“Well, Shaw,” Root said with a coy smile that only widened when Shaw rolled her eyes, anticipating what was coming, “I have something that you can eat anytime you’d like.”

“That’s it, you’re taking me to Beatrice Lillie,” Shaw said with a scowl, turning on her heel and starting to walk towards the exit of the subway without bothering to look back to make sure Root was following, which she was, of course.

“Are you sure you want to do it there, Sam? I mean, I’m not against a little exhibitionism, but that seems a little public,” Root teased, her lips already starting to hurt from smiling so much. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed flirting so brazenly with the woman she’d follow to the ends of the earth and she was determined to make up for lost time.

“Shut- _up,_ Root,” Shaw grumbled as they went above ground, Root’s smile growing ever wider at her familiar annoyance.

Somehow, it made her absolutely certain that they were going to be okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Any feedback is greatly appreciated!


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